


The Guardian Angel of MJN

by TiedyedTrickster



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Arthur is even more himself, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Douglas is himself, Gen, Martin is an angel, Wings, also perseptive about surprising things, but seriously - Martin is an angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:58:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4067614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiedyedTrickster/pseuds/TiedyedTrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>GERTI's going down, quite possibly for the final time, and everyone agrees that it would take a miracle to get them all out of this one. And Martin agrees. And then provides one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Guardian Angel of MJN

 

            _‘Well,’_ Douglas thought, _‘It was fun while it lasted.’_

He’d had a good run of it, several lovely wives, a fine daughter, and advantage over pretty much everyone he met by simply being himself. Life was made for pleasure, and he’d set out intending to squeeze out every last drop he could – and had done quite the bang-up job if he did say so himself.

It was a shame, really, that it was going to be all over in a few minutes. He glanced at the controls again. Yep, both engines still on fire, steering still frozen, angle of descent sharp enough to cut yourself on, ground a rapidly approaching stretch of utterly abandoned English countryside. He took quiet comfort in the knowledge that at least it was going to be quick, then half wondered if he’d have time to eat the chocolate biscuits he’d been saving for tea.

Beside him, Martin was gibbering in a way really not suitable for the Supreme Commander of a vessel. Behind them, Carolyn had gone silent and white-lipped, and Arthur-

“So, has anyone come up with a plan yet?”

Douglas sighed. Even in the face of utter catastrophe, Arthur was still Arthur. “No, we haven’t, Arthur.”

“Well, couldn’t we make parachutes out of napkins or something?” the younger man asked, “Or, we have that blanket in the back, we could use that, too, and maybe it would work?”

“No, Arthur,” Douglas said, for once not in the mood for making a sarcastic remark, “It really wouldn’t. And I’m fresh out of clever ideas.”

“Oh.” Arthur looked despondent for a moment, then perked up. “How about you, Skip? Any ideas?”

“What do you think Martin’s going to do?” Douglas raised an eyebrow.

“I dunno,” Arthur shrugged, “He has brilliant ideas sometimes, though – like letting the air out of the tires of the luggage van that one time? That worked!”

“Arthur, light of my life, it would take a miracle to save us now,” Carolyn said quietly, face still white.

“Oh.” Arthur said again and bit his lip. “I… don’t suppose you could do one of those, could you, Skip?”

Martin had finally gone quiet as the others spoke, and when he answered, he sounded… odd. Too calm, amongst other things. “What, a miracle?”

“Yeah.” Arthur nodded hesitantly.

“You’d like me to perform a miracle, so GERTI doesn’t crash and kill us all?”

Arthur nodded vigorously. “Yes, please!”

“Okay.”

And Martin, Mr. ‘No We Can’t Do (fill in the blank), It’s Against Standard Safety Procedures’ Crieffe undid his seatbelt and stood up. Then he started back to the (thankfully empty) passenger’s section, pausing briefly to put a hand on Carolyn’s shoulder and give her a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be okay.”

Then he had passed the door of the flight deck. There was a moment of silence.

“So, anyone else wondering how Skip’s walking all easy and upright and not clinging to walls, even though we’re on an angle?” Arthur asked.

“Yes,” said Douglas, undoing his seatbelt, “And I’m going to find out.”

“Douglas, you can’t go back there,” Carolyn protested, “There’s no one flying the plane!”

“Gosh, you know what, Carolyn? You’re right. Arthur,” he turned to their very special steward, “Get in Martin’s seat and strap in – you are now temporary acting captain.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Until Martin comes to his senses or we hit the ground, whichever comes first.”

“Okay then! Um, Douglas?”

“Yes?” the first officer looked back from where he’d begun creeping along the wall towards the cabin.

Arthur shuffled awkwardly as he clicked the seatbelt on. “Since I’m acting captain and all, and since he left it here, can I wear Skip’s hat?”

“Why not? If our Supreme Commander has any objections, he can voice them on landing. Come on, Carolyn.”

 

OoOoOoO

 

Martin was standing in the cabin, directly in between GERTI’s wings, eyes closed, expression peaceful, talking quietly to himself.

“…and beneath my wings the Earth shall fall away, and all shall be safe in the sky…”

Douglas would have opened his mouth and made a withering comment about Martin’s track record , except the small captain had apparently finished talking and now spread out his arms in a grand, swooping gesture of the sort that Douglas would have bet hard money the short man would never be able to pull off.

Though, still, it wouldn’t have been half so impressive without the wings. They snapped out from behind him as he moved his arms, impossibly huge, milky translucent, and not quite as real as the rest of the world, it would seem, as the passed through the walls of the plane to line up with and settle over GERTI’s own straining limbs. The old plane shuddered for a moment, then, gradually, began to straighten out of her heart-stopping plunge, and Martin smiled.

“That’s my good girl. Carolyn?”

“Yes?” Carolyn managed to croak out.

“You might want to strap yourself in,” her normally gormless pilot said, eyes still closed, “It’s still going to be a bit of a rough landing, I’m afraid, and it _is_ part of the safety regulations. And Douglas, could you get back to the flight deck and help Arthur with the landing gear? It’d be really appreciated.”

The words were said with no rancor or snide undertones of ‘I’m the captain and you have to listen to me even though I’m half your age;’ it was just a pleasant request for a favour between friends.

Douglas nodded. “Of course, sir.” For once, the title was applied without sarcasm. Martin smiled but didn’t open his eyes.

“Thanks.”

 

OoOoOoO

 

It _was_ a rough landing, leaving grooves in the formerly pristine bit of field they landed it, but it wasn’t the worst they’d ever had, and now they were standing outside GERTI, stunned, shaken, but alive. Well, Martin was looking at GERTI with quiet contentment, hands in his pockets, comfortable in his own skin in a way that was so _distinctly_ un-Martin that it was frankly unsettling, but other than that even Arthur was looking a little paler than usual. No one was speaking, so it looked like it would be up to Douglas to sort things out, as usual. Now, how had it gone again? Oh, right… He turned to Carolyn.

“Say, chief. I could be wrong,” and he awarded himself numerous points for saying that with a straight face, “but I believe we just saw our Supreme Commander sprout wings and use them to land the plane. This makes me feel… **deeply** confused. Maybe we should ask him what the devil he’s playing at. How does that sound to you?”

Carolyn snapped out of the slight daze she’d been in and nodded sharply, “Yes, you’re right. Martin, what’s going on – how did you do that, back in the cabin?”

Martin tilted his head and grinned at her. “That? That was a miracle, Carolyn, like you asked for, like you all asked for, even if you weren’t saying it out loud.”

“And how did you _manage_ this miracle, Martin?!” Carolyn glared at him, still shaken from what had almost happened and taking it out on her usual target out of habit. The short pilot just kept grinning, though it gained a slightly more… Martin-ish quality somehow.

“Oh, that’s an easy one – I’m an angel.”

There was a beat of silence.

“And you’re just mentioning this now because…?” Douglas asked, making a little ‘go on’ gesture with his hand.

Martin shrugged, ducking his head a bit but still cheerful. “I don’t usually know I’m an angel – makes avoiding the temptation to do things like that all the time easier. I only tend to recall during emergencies.”

“But- but- you _can’t_ be an angel,” Carolyn protested, “You’re a spineless little twit who I only hired because you agreed to do it for no money!”

“I know,” Martin’s smile went a little beatific, “And wasn’t it just a stroke of luck for you that such a man turned up _right_ when you were thinking you’d have to throw in the towel, because you couldn’t afford to actually _hire_ anyone?”

“But- but-” Carolyn spluttered, words momentarily failing her, “You failed your qualifications seven times!”

“Yes, I felt that was rather inspired, if I do say so myself,” Martin replied, looking pleased. “Come on, Carolyn, would you have actually believed I was willing to work for you like that if my resume had been even a tiny bit better?”

“Well, no, of course not-”

“There you go then,” Martin grinned, “I am what you needed me to be.”

“And you really are an angel?”

“Yep!” he was looking pleased with himself in a way the crew hadn’t seen since his triumph with the Spanish mechanic.

Carolyn stared at him for a moment, the turned away. “Douglas!”

“Yes, Carolyn?”

“Aren’t you going to chip in with some comment or other?”

“Actually, I was thinking about how this rather explains a few things,” Douglas admitted, “Like how Martin can manage to scrape by on this and his ‘man with a van’ business. What I’m surprised about is that Arthur hasn’t asked anything yet.”

“Yes, that’s a good point, Douglas, Arthur, why haven’t you said anything yet?”

Arthur jumped a bit at this. “What? What am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, something about what a surprise this is, or how brilliant it is that we’ve got our own guardian angel on the plane, so we can go as fast as we like because we can’t outfly him, or something to the effect.” Douglas said drily.

“Oh! That’s a good point, I hadn’t thought of that!” Arthur beamed, then looked puzzled. “But, really, it’s not that surprising, is it? I mean, I figured it out ages ago!”

“ ** _What_**?” Carolyn and Douglas spoke as one.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s really obviously, if you think about it,” Arthur said, still looking confused, “That is, even though Douglas never follows the rules, and the money’s always tight, and Mum yells at the customers, and I’m an idiot, it’s always okay, because we’ve got Martin to make sure we’re all safe at the end it, with the techie bits and all. Plus, we’ve got GERTI’s wings and stuff held on with gaffa tape, and even _I_ know that only works in the films. And I remembered we never used to do it, because of that, but now we do, and then I remembered why we started, and I remembered it was Martin that started it, so it must be Martin making it work.”

“And you got ‘angel’ from that?” Douglas asked a little weakly.

“Well of course,” Arthur nodded, “If he was a demon, we’d have fallen out of the sky by now.”

“Arthur, darling, we just _did_ fall out of the sky.”

“Oh, yeah – I meant in a way we didn’t survive.”

“I see.” The sad thing, Carolyn thought, was that she could. “And why didn’t you mention this sooner?”

“I thought you knew.”

“How could we know if we never talk about it?!”

“I thought it was a secret.”

“But Arthur, you’re _terrible_ with secrets!” Carolyn protested and her son beamed.

“I know! I’ve been really, really pleased with myself for keeping this one for so long!”

Martin laughed. “Only you, Arthur. Well, you did a good job of it.”

“ _Really_?”

“Definitely.”

“ _Gosh_ ,” Arthur beamed. “I’ve never had an angel tell me I’ve done a good job before! Say, Skip, are you going to be like this all the time, now, or are you going to go back to being Martin again?”

“I’m always Martin – that’s who I am. Sometimes I’m just… less fully myself, if that makes any sense.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well then, one question before we are once again back to being graced by the usual Crieffe presence,” Douglas slipped in smoothly, continuing when Martin nodded hesitantly, “You currently seem more comfortable and, dare I say, Captain-like that I have ever seen you before. Why on _earth_ would you want to go back to being how you usually are?”

“It’s… how I have to be. If I want to interact with all of you,” Martin looked away, blushing a bit. “If I stayed like this, I’d have to keep an eye on you from afar.”

“What, like guardian angels usually do?” Douglas raised an eyebrow. “I should have thought that would be a da- ah, a _far_ sight better than having to live in a student tenet building, with _students_ in it.”

Martin looked up at him, expression horrified. “But Douglas, if I did that, _I wouldn’t be able to fly GERTI_.”

There was a moment of thoughtful silence.

“You know, it’s almost reassuring to hear him say that?” Douglas said mildly to Carolyn, who huffed.

“Frankly, I don’t care what he is as long as he remembers that he’s _my_ pilot. Though, Martin,” she levelled a steely gaze at him, “I don’t care how ‘believable’ you are trying to be – I want you to keep in mind while you are forgetting who you are that pilots are supposed to _improve_ with practice. You have had plenty of practice by this point – now I want to see some improvement. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Carolyn,” Martin grinned a bit, “I’ll do my best, angel’s honour.”

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

“-with no engines!” Martin babbled excitedly from where he was seated on a rock next to Douglas while they waited for someone to come and get them all. He’d forgotten about being Martin, Guardian Angel of MJN Air again and was back to being Martin Crieffe, Supreme Commander of the the world’s most struggling air dot, and he was regaling Douglas with how he remembered them landing GERTI for the third time. Douglas just nodded, for once grateful for the captain’s tendency to get like this in the face of success – it meant that he and Carolyn wouldn’t have to think up a cover story on their own and would be well-familiar with this version of events by the time the authorities showed.

“And I’ve had a look at the engines, and I know I’m a pilot, not an engineer, but I think they look much better than they’ve any right to – it’s like a miracle or something!”

“Blow your own trumpet, why don’t you,” Douglas muttered to himself. Martin turned and blinked at him.

“What was that, Douglas? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“I said, ‘you know, you might just be right about that.’ Chocolate biscuit? I think you’ve earned one.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of Martin having wings, I love it to itty bitty pieces, and I have read all the wingfics for this fandom I can find. And somehow, in the dark recesses of my mind, where ideas swirl and gambol with no one to keep an eye on them and make sure they behave themselves, this thought went from 'Martin should have wings' to 'Martin should be an angel.' And then it grabbed me by the throat and forced me to write it down. I'm sharing it with all of you of my own volition, though. ;)


End file.
